


A Calm in the Storm

by Anonymous



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Homeless, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22073713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Prompt:Yosuke is a lonely, inexperienced prostitute, Souji is lonely, completely taken with him, and takes him in, and they awkwardly fall in love with fluff and angst along the way.
Relationships: Hanamura Yosuke/Seta Souji
Comments: 3
Kudos: 58
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In full:  
> I'd like to see an AU where Yosuke, for whatever reason, has recently ending up working the corner. Souji doesn't know him, but he's spent a lot of time watching him and one day Yosuke notices and comes over. There's some back and forth where it becomes clear that Souji is attracted to him and invites him out for dinner. Yosuke figures this is a prequel to sex and, sure enough, they go back to Souji's apartment. Only, after some kissing, Souji gets him to take a bath, lends him some clothing, makes him a bed and that's the night.
> 
> Yosuke ends up staying there for the next few weeks, hesitant to leave because this is the first time he's had a roof over his head in a long time. Plus, Souji is a nice guy, if a little weird and quieter than he's used to, but what's odd is that he doesn't seem to expect anything from Yosuke – he's happy enough to have someone to come home to, to keep him company, and they never go farther than making out. In fact, Souji's more likely to hold his hand and cuddle up with him.
> 
> Conflicted and afraid he's getting too attached, Yosuke lies down an ultimatum: either they have sex – helping him reaffirm where he stands in this arrangement – or he's leaving because he's not going to feed Souji's weird fantasy that they're somehow boyfriends, something that he wants but is sure won't work out. Souji's so desperate to keep him around that he agrees but he's a mess before it even starts, shaking and on the verge of crying and ashamed because Yosuke's right – he's managed to convince himself they're a couple and now he's sure Yosuke thinks he's pathetic. Yosuke can't go through with it, and they reach an understanding or something and…well, that's where I run out of ideas. But I'd like it to end happily.
> 
> https://badbadbathhouse.livejournal.com/1990.html?thread=11882950#t11882950

It had been a very long day, and Yosuke’s feet ached. Business had been going slower than usual, and it was going to get a lot cooler very soon. He hiked the tight denim of his shorts and grimaced, struck a more obviously sexual pose and hoped. If he could get a john in the next hour or so it was possible that he would be able to string it out for an hour or so, and keep himself out of the cold for a little while.

May not be probable - he still wasn't very good at all of this, and he was learning more from really terrible disasters rather than graceful incremental learning - but he would take any chances he could get at this point. 

A car drove past him, and he jutted a hip. It slowed down just enough to get an eyeful and then sped up and off. Another bust. It would have been a relief a couple of months ago when he was just starting out and both nervous and disgusted at himself for selling his body. A few weeks ago he would have been hurt that he hadn't looked good enough to even ask about, but now he was only frustrated. Those few months had hardly made an old hand of him, but the cold and tired and sleazy feelings had dulled through overuse, and all that he could think of was getting enough to maybe buy a bottle of awful wine and dragging it back to his makeshift camp at the riverside to drink while he washed in the freezing, renewing river water, even as green and chemical laden as it was. 

He pulled his fur collared coat closer around him as he sauntered off to see if a change of location would improve his luck. It was the last of the clothes from his old life that had any sort of value in his new one, being just flashy enough to catch attention in the dark, even though having it over bare skin made him come out in goosebumps in the frigid night air. The most action he was going to get would be from downtown, but he didn't feel like the commute or the risk of catching legal attention. He'd seen the others get scattered before, seen them get pulled into cars. The last thing he would allow would be to be caught, identified and carted back to Inaba. Anything would be better than that, even getting fucked for a living.

This is hardly a snazzy part of town, but it does what he needs it too. It's grotty and cheap, but so is he, and there's enough people in the dive bars to make his patrol worth it without it being the bustle and sleaze of the red light district. The view of the river as he makes his long way round to his other favourite spot is beautiful in the dying light, and he takes his usual spot on one of the rundown, crumbling concrete piers to watch the last dregs of light stretch across the world, taking their sweet time across the banks before vanishing for another night. It feels like a changing of the watch, when all of the denizens of the underworld come out to play. It's a rough idea that he's one of them now.

There was a movement in his periphery as he turned back to the street; an old man, grey clothed and grey haired, snapping his head so that his hair caught the eye. Was he watching him? He'd had a couple of white hairs so far, and more than a couple of greys, but they varied wildly between guys that had been too pressured over their lives and were completely submissive, and absolute bastards that wanted someone to toss about. And they bartered like all hell too, but he was way too concerned with getting nothing at all to argue over the scraps. Even the ever-so-rare menopausal housewives were better, they at least were normally polite.

It was hard to make the dude out from distance and dim light, but he seemed strong enough to hold himself up at least, and had a paper bag in his hand that seemed too big and square for a hidden drink at least, but there was little more worrying than a john who came with his own supplies. And in an unmarked bag, too. 

It was worth an attempt, at least, and so he made his way back to the street as long and pendulous as possible, but the guy seemed to shrink into the shadows of the ruin he was loitering in. Maybe he was paranoid? Or completely uninterested, or that bag was full of some things he should stay far away from. The walk to the street took a slight detour to put more space between the two of them before he turned his back on him. 

Several days passed before he saw the flash of silver in the gloom again, this time a short distance away as he stood touting on the corner. He had been walking down the other side of the street, seemed to catch sight of Yosuke and shudder to a stop. That crumpled paper bag was in his hand again, bulging this time in a rather ominous fashion. He chanced a nod at the stranger and got nothing in response, but he stayed in one place. 

Yosuke didn't get the chance to see how long their impromptu stand off would last, for at that moment a car pulled up to him where he managed to wrangle a hour and a half and enough money to last him a good while and more in the tip of his boot. When he was dropped back off, sore and sticky, the old guy was understandably gone. 

He saw him a couple of times over the next week, always lingering somewhere in dusk, normally sat on a concrete road divider and watching Yosuke watch the sunset. He'd never given him any trouble, although he still hadn't ventured close enough to him to shout. All in all it was interesting enough that he would mark him as he walked about, but the whole of his mind was so often occupied with other things that he would become background decoration within half a thought.

A particularly vivid sunset seemed to change matters, and this time his perhaps stalker was feeling especially confident. He walked up to the shore and then along it so he wouldn't be popping up from behind, a little thought that sat well with Yosuke as he watched him sidle through the edge of his vision. Maybe it was a completely innocent weird bag, and even if it wasn't he was both younger and more lightly attired; he was pretty confident that in a swimming contest through the sludge water he would be an easy winner. 

He swiveled on a boot heel to meet grey eyes in a surprisingly young face. There couldn't have been more of a couple of years between them, for all the drastic divides in hair colour and fashion sense would say. It was a strange effect as the luminescent blue of twilight overtook him, but he couldn't pin the surety in his movement together with the reticent way he'd been skulking about over the last week or so. 

A smirk and a cocked hip hadn't failed him yet, so he gave his best of both, the hands lodged deep in his jacket pockets pulling apart a fraction to reveal slightly more of his chest; he was bolstered by the slight flicker of eyelids as he got a look in. 

"Hey," he tried. There was no telling what this guy had come here for and what he intended, and he didn't need to pick the wrong fight. The guy smiled back at him, and he didn't look malicious but it was impossible to tell a lot of the time.

"Evening." At least he still spoke like an old man to match his hair. "Do you come here often?"

It was a surprising introduction, even if it was born from nervousness, and there was very little he could do to stop the huff of laughter it got from him. It was something that he would have said to a cute girl in a bar back a long time ago, before all niceties were time wasters. Maybe this was the guy's first time doing this. 

"Yeah, I'm here every night. I think I've seen you around here too?"

"I'm feeding the cats," came the perfectly even answer, and there was little he could do but blink in response. every time he had seen that bag he'd had some other wild idea of what it could contain, but never once had he suspected cat food. He couldn't ever remember seeing more than one cat around at a time, and this guy had enough for all the tins that bag could hold? But it was such an unusual answer and delivered so coolly that there was nothing that he could do but believe him. 

"You look cold," the guy followed up with, and again he snorted a laugh; it was such an obvious pick up line but so dry that it threw him right off balance again. A quick peer through the murk and it seemed as though the dude hadn't taken it too badly, still staring at him in complete seriousness.

"Would you like to warm me up? It'll cost you." There was no way the guy had watched his tiny shorts clamber into a sleek sedan without picking up on a couple of context clues, but there was nothing to beat just coming out with it. The guy cocked his head, obviously expecting an answer along those lines, and shifted his weight to his other leg.

"I can try, but I'm afraid my circulation leaves a little to be desired. What do you charge?"

Yosuke couldn't help the rush of disappointment. Was he trying to say he was impotent? Or was he in for some serious haggling? Tired before it even began, he started with a low ball in the hopes that they could breeze through it easily with his best wink.

"You could do pretty much anything you want for five thousand."

"You're worth more than that," the guy replied in a flash, and he was momentarily flattered by the earnestness before he realised who and what he was and it faded.

"Times are hard," he said, trying for a charming smile to cover the ruefulness that bubbled up in him. 

Something tightened in the stranger's face, and he looked away for the first time. 

"That's no excuse."

A long moment passed between them, where Yosuke had no idea what to say. If the guy was going to offer him a limousine he wouldn't say no, but if this was an evangelical he could get on his bike. It didn't feel like that though, too quiet. Almost an aside. When the guy spoke again he stared him down so Yosuke couldn't move an inch.

"Would you like to have dinner with me? I'd like to see how good the bargain is."

"You're paying, right?"

"Of course," he said, and there was a warmth at corner of his eyes that he hadn't seen for a very long time. 

They settled into a slightly awkward silence on the walk to the car, which had been squirreled away down some side street, and which turned out to be a terribly safe hybrid. He was a pretty cheap date, and there was very little getting around it, but he couldn't help but hope it would be something more filling than fast food again, and interesting enough to distract what normally proved to be pretty boring conversation full of grandstanding and poorly plotted innuendo, and the trifecta of boring talk, food and sex really cramped his ability to sell his enjoyment.

He did his best not to fuck up his chances worrying about weird people and bad lays, and attempted to settle as they drove. In the light of the streetlamps it was incredible that this guy had looked elderly, when he was obviously fit and lean. The warm light wasn't much better to see him in than the dusk, but he allowed himself to wonder a little about how often he'd have to dye his hair to keep it that light to the roots, and reminisced about the days when dying his own had been purely for vanity rather than to catch very particular eyes. 

He dragged a finger across a firm thigh, trying to make himself felt through the rough jeans. Was he a student? With hooker money? This might be a jackpot.

The john turned his attention from the road for a moment to watch the progression of his finger up to the side of his knee before reversing back down, and his lips pursed a fraction. Yosuke may have been unlucky and rash, but he wasn't an idiot and wasn't going to get them on either side of a street sign for a free grope.

"So what should I call you, tall, pale and handsome?" 

A beat, but then loud and clear, "I'm Souji. What about you?"

It was impossible to tell whether it was his real name or not, but at least he wouldn't be spending the evening screaming 'daddy'. 

"I'm Hiroyuki."

"It's nice to meet you, Hiroyuki."

Yosuke smiled at him, before focusing back on the long strokes along Souji's hip. The name hadn't settled for him yet, pulled from a story his mother told him as a child, and chosen to be somewhere far from his own name and nothing too... obvious. He was getting there though.

They pulled up outside a hole in the wall restaurant that he'd never heard of before. It was impossible to see through the vast collection of nick knacks that clustered at the small windows, lit in a dim, murky glow, and the sign above the door was completely obscured in a dark crust. It took everything to not let his face fall at the sight of it, and he let himself be helped out the door with an air of easy anticipation. It was all going to be perfectly fine and he certainly wasn't going to end up inside someone's dinner the next evening. 

The door opened heavily, and before his eyes could adjust to the dark interior he made out the sound of happy conversation and vague tones of music, and he relaxed a little. It was a nice little place, somewhere between homely and stuffy, but the clientele seemed sober and comfortable and didn't give himself or his shorts a second glance. 

They slid into a corner table and he inhaled a deep lungful of dashi and soy fumes and all his prospects suddenly felt brighter. He realised he was probably grinning like a lunatic when he snagged Souji's attention from the positioning of his blazer on the back of the chair, and he became innately aware of the cold wood against the back of his legs. The loud drag of Souji's chair forced him to reintegrate himself into the atmosphere and he struggled his way back into character; he waited until they were both seated and sorted before hooking his leg behind Souji's and slide up his calf, punctuated with his best slow wink. A faint contraction of the shoulders was the only indication he'd done anything at all, and he congratulated himself at a quiet victory.

"Is this okay?" he asked, wondering just how much he could get away with in a little family-owned place like this.

"Yes, that's fine. I hope you like ramen?" He was back to being quiet, even if the confidence hadn't gone too far.

"I love it," he purred, punctuating it with a long drag up to his knee. "Really hits the spot."

"Good," Souji said, with a long sigh that seemed to deflate him into relaxation.

Their peace was ruffled by a hollered 'what do you want?' from the chef over the bar. Yosuke made a grab for a well-worn menu as Souji leant over the table, voice hushed conspiratorially. "I recommend the house bowl."

"Two house bowls!" Yosuke called over to him, then rested on his elbows in a similar hunch. 

"Care to tell me what I'm in for?"

"The best thing here. I really should experiment a bit more but there's nothing like it."

"We can experiment all you want." God, it was a miracle he could get those lines out without choking, but Souji only smiled. 

"Do you have a favourite place you can recommend to get my out of my rut?"

Here was the crossroads; keep going with the awful porn lines or have an actual human conversation for the first time in a long time. He blinked.

"I've not really tried many places here, but when I lived near Okina there was a little hamburger place just around the corner from the town hall, and it had the most amazing-"

"The ones with cheese in the patty?" 

His mind raced to catch up.

"You know it?"

"Yeah, I used to live in Okina a couple of years ago. It's a nice place; big enough to lose yourself and small enough that it doesn't have that city hollowness. Almost as though it hasn't shaken off the countryside yet. There's a bit of the same spirit here too."

The wistfulness in Souji's voice jarred with his own memories of being lonely there, but he buried it deep. And since he'd weaselled his way here the closest he'd come to a community was recognising some of the cars that drove past him. 

"How did you end up here then?" He nuzzled his face into his hand and oozed into the chair a little.

"My parents were there for a bit, but when they went off for work I got posted here to a cousin on my father's side. I liked it here so I applied for college and settled here on my own. Are you from here?" He jumped and his face contorted as he realised what he'd said. "You don't have to tell me, sorry."

"It's okay," Yosuke replied, desperate to keep this professional in its unprofessionalism. "It's mostly a pretty dumb and sad story of me saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. There's much better things for me to use my tongue on."

Even in the dim of the restaurant he caught the blush, and Souji looked away from him again.

Damn, he was really susceptible to that sort of stuff. Maybe he was a virgin? He had been given more for his own first time, was he supposed to give a discount on the other side of the table? He'd seemed to have game at points at least, but maybe it was only bolts of inspiration. Or he'd been tanking gin all day.

They were delivered from the pregnant pause by a shout from the bar and Souji scuttled out of his seat and over to the steaming bowls in record speed, cash in hand, and brought back to the table to meet chopsticks already poised and waiting for them.

It was perfect; everything he had ever wanted. With every thick noodle or spoonful of salty broth he kept in check enough to not splatter himself or his paycheck, but making idle conversation rapidly became a very low priority, helped by the fact that across from him the waterline was dropping just as fast. They grinned through ugly mouthfuls and he figured that if he was still thirsty after this there was going to be very little he could get wrong.

By the time he brought his bowl down from his lips he was full to the point that he would almost certainly regret it during the oncoming physical activity but happy and sated enough that he could go back on the street with no regrets however much he strained.

"You look like you needed that," Souji said, settling his chopsticks across the rim of his bowl.

"Yeah, well, I need to keep my energy up."

He tried what he hoped would come off as a vulpine rather than lupine smirk and stole his hand across the table to catch Souji's intertwining fingers that were shy and immobile. There was a pause that stretched to the cusp of uncomfortable, but then cold fingers grasped his own and Souji was brushing broth from the corner of Yosuke's lips too fast for his tongue to follow. 

"Do you want to come back to mine for the night then?"

"I thought you would never ask," he replied, and they slid together from the table. He took a chance as Souji was retrieving his blazer and stepped in, his hand slipping into his inner thigh as he brought his mouth to his ear.

"Come on, I need to see how well we can get your circulation going."

There was a little intake of breath that he could feel against the hairs at the back of his neck, and he drew back to meet eyes that were darkened in a very familiar way. Bingo. He hadn't ever had the opportunity to charge for a night and had no real idea what would be reasonable in the event anyway, but there would be time enough to sort it all out before the deed was done. Honestly, for five thousand, the meal and a bed he would consider it a bargain. It would be the easiest haggle of Souji's life.

The ride was completely silent as they pulled away, Yosuke perched in his corner happily digesting and watching his target who was completely calm and collected. The act was coming to him pretty easy tonight, more than he was used to. The whole hooker persona was sketchy and patched together from films and stereotypes at the best of times, but it had been wearing thin that evening; translucent enough that he was beginning to peer through it. 

Maybe it was the food, or it being someone his own age for once, or if he'd been so run down that the slightest reprieve from the grind was enough to lower his guard, but he broke all his own sexy codes and kept his hands to himself and started humming along to the song on the radio. It was an old song, one that he could barely make out lyrics for or remember the bridges for, but he tapped out the beat on the foot resting on his knee as he cobbled together what was still sticking to the inside of his mind. Souji turned to look at him for a beat before clicking a button on his steering wheel with a tiny smile that was only barely visible in the strobe of the streetlights and his knuckles turning white. 

Yosuke considered that if he was going to be giving a musical performance along with the others he may as well make the song choice as filthy as possible, but for the second time in the night he blinked; the car was soon filled with the sweet, sweet sounds of It's Raining Men and the quieter, snuffly sounds of Souji trying valiantly and failing not to laugh.

Before he knew it the car was slowing down and turning into an apartment parking bay. He'd been expecting a mansion out in the suburbs or beyond judging by how he carried himself but instead it looked like a small block in a nice part of town; homely rather than extravagant.

They extracted themselves from the car and made their way over to the block entrance and Yosuke was beginning to feel a genuine anticipation, but then the door was pushed open to reveal a huge white "Out of Order" sign on the lift door. Well that was about to take all the sexy out of the night. He turned in semi-accusatory scorn at Souji who put his hands up and bowed his head in apology before holding the stairs door open for him. 

"Scheduled maintenance. It's the third floor."

He heaved an exaggerated groan as he sailed past, making sure to swing his ass as sensuously as he could as he mounted the stairs, which ultimately proved fruitless when he felt a hand in his own. Souji was beaming at him, enough to make his grey eyes crackle with warmth, and then Yosuke was pulling him up the stairs as fast as he could manage at an angle.

It was taken as the challenge it was, and the flip flopping tug of war lasted all the way past the second floor when it all broke down into a flat out race, shoulders jostling for the inner track at the turn and then pedal to the metal for the final straight. Yosuke almost punched a hole in the stair door to get it open and Souji slapped the door hard enough to wake the whole block, panting and hunched in an incredibly un-sexy manner.

"Hey, dude, not fair! I didn't even know which one was yours!" Yosuke spluttered, barely doing better. 

Dinner suddenly heaved in his belly, roiling from the exertion and the realisation that he had just behaved like a total idiot - a child - in front of a client. Shit shit shit. It didn't matter that this job didn't come out with an employee orientation handout or top down management, he had to be on better behaviour. 

"You should have hit every one on the way down then," Souji huffed and his jaw hung open at the suggestion, shuffling between jest and seriously no social responsibility. 

Souji watched his face change and used the opening to his advantage, smoothly transitioning from hunched recovery into a gentle low tackle that took them both against the door. There was a moment of complete still when they took stock of their tangled legs, chests pressed together and Yosuke's hands braced against Souji's shoulders in defence before Yosuke laughed. It was all it took for Souji's mouth to be on his; a chaste, firm press of lips as the key clicked in the lock and they stumbled into the hall.

Yosuke found himself gently moved out of the way of the door, which swung neatly back in an arc to thump closed before it was nudged flush and locked by a Souji who turned back to him with a hint of the old wariness again.

"Do you have any flatmates?" Yosuke asked before he could get himself in trouble. 

"Nope, it's just me."

"Good."

He was back on Souji's lips instantly, careful not to deepen anything if it wasn't wanted but insistent on purpose; he knew that some of the others on his block were very against kissing clients, for him it was the difference between making it feel like a transaction and let him trick his brain into going along with it, and it was free of charge. 

When he stepped forward to lodge his leg between Souji's and ground up it was obvious the work was going well. The groan he got when he pressed forward was unmistakeable, and there was a slight tremble in the knee that was pressed against his own. 

"Take me to bed?" he whispered, close enough that his lips caught Souji's earlobe, punctuated by a lick to the skin at the back of his ear.

"Shower first." Souji turned his head away so the quiet words were almost lost in the big, dark and empty space of the hallway. He stepped back, removed his shoes and awkwardly made his way to an anonymous door. Yosuke slipped his sneakers off and slunk his way over and draped a hand on Souji's hip in passing.

"Are you coming in with me?"

"It's best I don't."

"Suit yourself," he said, sauntering into the bathroom and shivering at the cold floor tiles. "You're welcome to stay for the show, if you want," he said, unzipping his jacket to show of his lean chest. The door clicked and he turned, smirk ready, but there was nobody there. He was alone in the room. 

He relaxed at the solitude. It was a shame he wouldn't be able to bill him for whatever filth they would have been up to in the hypothetical joint shower, but it had been so long since his last wash in something that wasn't a filthy river, and it would be even better for being by himself and without the clamouring hands of others. 

There was still a job to do so he couldn't luxuriate in it forever, but once he had his body washed and done as much prep as he could it was still an acceptable time for a shower and it was his time. The one shampoo on the rack must have been Souji's; it was eucalyptus scented and strangely thick, and as it oozed between his fingers he had a stray worry that it might make his own hair prematurely gray as well. 

Beggars can't be choosers, he told himself, and ran it through his hair in a viscous lather. It would certainly make him stand out, at least until his roots came in, although he probably wouldn't be able to wear it as well.

By the time he emerged from the steam scrubbed, shaved and stretched he was feeling warm and relaxed in a way that he rarely did, dampened only by the tiny flutter of butterflies he always felt when there was a john waiting for him. He pulled a fluffy white towel from the heated rack and dried himself off, giving his hair the best chances he could although he knew it was doomed to spiky insurrection, and then stood bouncing from heel to heel as he stared at the towel.

Would Souji rather have him walk out dressed as he had been or stark naked? Different people liked different things, but he'd been given no instruction and had no way of inferring from outward signals. It was possible that the clothes had been a critical reason in his being chosen, or the act of stripping down from street wear would be a major component; it was similarly possible that there would be something in the brazen nature of coming out in nothing that definitely said a lot. 

A couple of umms and ahhs later Yosuke emerged from the bathroom with the towel tied at his hip and the last tendrils of steam around him. 

The hall was empty. 

A quiet tapping brought him around the corner and there was Souji, sitting at a desk covered in papers and textbooks and completely at ease as he shuffled through notes and typed away at a laptop. 

It caught Yosuke completely off guard to watch him work oblivious to his entry, changed into sweatpants and a cooling coffee at his wrist. He was expecting at least some sort of anticipation but it was as though his evening was continuing as if he were utterly alone.

Yosuke puffed himself up; he may be relatively unskilled at this and not the most enticing on the block - he could admit the obvious - but he was at the very least good enough to not blend into the furniture like a particularly naked house plant.

He swung round behind the office chair and positioned himself just above his shoulder. 

"So, hot stuff, what's next?"

Souji jumped in his seat, froze and then sighed as he remembered the hooker he'd brought home and relaxed, turning so that their faces were only a few centimeters apart.

"Oh, um, follow me."

Yosuke moved aside to let him get out of the swivel chair and padded after him through the little hall to one of the other anonymous doors which was pushed open to reveal a room that was simultaneously cluttered and immaculate. There were books, figures and photos all over the place, each meticulously placed and pristine. The bed was turned town and smooth, and he wouldn't have been at all surprised if once the covers were off there would be hospital corners lurking under there. The only thing that was an obvious stand out was the single pair of pyjamas, perfectly folded on the centre of the bed. Huh.

"They're for you," Souji said, flicking the light switch and gesturing at the clothes. "If there's anything wrong with them just let me know. Is there anything else you need?"

There was no response that came to him in the moment, so he settled for shaking his head like an idiot. Was this a scene that he'd forgotten to say anything about?

"Then good night, and I'll see you in the morning," Souji said, his face soft and smiling. He gently took hold of Yosuke's hand and gave it what felt like a reassuring squeeze, turned and left. The door shut behind him with a very final snick.

Ok, this was now very uncharted territory. Maybe the guy was into somnophilia and he'd wake up sticky and used and completely unaware? Or he was a morning fuck person and the easiest way to get his rocks off was to keep someone around handy rather than try kerb crawling at 7am? Or he was going to watch him sleep and get his kicks that way? The dude was incredibly difficult to get a read on, but he did seem weird even if he also came across as 'nice enough', and there was no way to really tell what was going on deep inside people's heads. He was in half a mind to storm back out and lay down the law, get some solid answers to it all, but the prospect of going a full twenty four hours without a dick in his ass was too tempting to potentially upset and he kept his mouth, and the door, shut.

He edged closer to one of the walls of photos in an attempt at understanding his surroundings. While the landscapes were stunning and the people all looked happy and perfectly framed and in focus, Souji appeared in very few of them, more often seeming to be the one behind the camera. It was a happy collage, but one at a bit of a distance. He envied it anyway.

Soured, he turned back to the bed, a sight for sore eyes after nights in a sleeping bag on uneven ground and hourly hotel rates, and changed into the pyjama bottoms as fast as he could, top carefully transplanted onto the bedside cabinet. They were just a little large, probably some of Souji's, and his excitement plateaued into something just shy of bliss when he slid between the clean sheets onto a soft bed. 

Sleep came almost immediately, deep and complete as though all his worries were just a vivid nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke in a mad panic. It took a second or two to realise that the reason he was unsettled was the complete dark and complete quiet; no cars, no river traffic, streetlights, nothing. He sank back into the soft cotton sheets and breathed a sigh of relief and turned over to fall back to sleep.

The second time he woke it was slowly and contentedly. The sun had risen and was streaming around the curtains of the wide window, and gradually the illusion that he was back in Inaba washed off of him as the details of the place came back into focus. 

He burrowed further into the sheets as a final refusal of the morning, registered that he'd come to at a forty five degree angle across the bed and there was no other body was crumpled around his legs; there was a solid chance that he'd been alone all night. A quick all over check and yep, he was still wearing the pyjama bottoms firmly around his waist, he had no unaccounted aches or pains and no residue anywhere on him. Relief crushed up against a rising concern that it could impact what the charge would be, but reasoned that it was worth any discount for a good night's sleep and a full stomach, and to wake without a shiv in his neck. After a sleep like that he was ready to go out and take on the world.

He took his sweet time stretching and rolling himself out of the sheets, but the bitter scent of coffee hit him like a wrench and he sped up to 'leisurely'.

The door betrayed him when he inched it open, hoping to have the upper hand in his exploration. There was only one open door the scent could have been coming from and he made his way over, trying to figure out the layout of the rest of the flat. Had Souji slept in another room, or on the sofa? There could have been a spare room for him, but the personal effects certainly felt like a master bed decoration. 

None of it made a lot of sense, but it probably wasn't worth thinking about in the long run. Or the short.

He ducked into the bathroom to freshen up and then it was on to the caffeine. The kitchen diner was bright and airy so that it burned his eyes in contrast to the dim hall, but it smelled heavenly; not just coffee but a whole host of breakfast smells that were everything he had ever wanted. Souji was standing by the sink with his back to him, casually dressed in jeans and a thin turtleneck, washing something under a stream of steaming water. He turned to him as he entered, obviously not as subtle as he thought he was, and smiled as he shook his hands dry and reached for the tap.

"Morning, sleepyhead. You sleep well?"

"Hi! Yeah thanks, out like a light."

It was disarmingly innocent for the situation - this was hardly waking up at a friend's house and he was presumably still on the clock.

Yosuke slid up behind him as he moved to pour the coffees, wrapping his arms around his hips and rubbing hands down his groin.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked as innocently as he could, but Souji only pulled his hands free and turned to hand him a mug of coffee, handle out.

"You can sit down, for a start," he laughed, and then turned back to his work.

He sat down at the table obediently and took a long draught of the coffee, black and strong, and felt himself become just a fraction more awake and human. The beep of a rice cooker brought Souji to the other side of the little kitchen as he fussed with bowls and plates, which appeared one by one at the table; miso, umeboshi, nori and natto. Souji came over with the rice and settled himself into the chair opposite.

"I'm sorry it's so sparse, Hiroyuki. I woke up later than usual so I didn't have time to make everything like I normally would."

He seemed genuinely contrite, and Yosuke tumbled over himself to correct him.

"It's incredible, thank you for the effort!" 

Souji smiled self-effacingly.

"There's no fish and most of the things here are from jars around the house, but thanks for the attempt. I can't believe I even had instant miso to pull out for it."

"It smells delicious all the same," he said, and started helping himself to the various bits and pieces, "and I appreciate it just as much as if you'd been up since three." He cut his own self-derision short and tried his first mouthful. After that he was off, a long moan telling Souji he'd done great, quickly followed by a laugh at the weird context that almost had him choke and Souji half out of his seat before he got the all clear signal. 

Despite the moans and groans that he normally kept strictly professional - was having breakfast a professional engagement? - all sexual thoughts quickly left him behind. He hadn't had a full and filling breakfast since before they had moved to Inaba and everything got too busy and loud. It disappeared in record time and incredible volume, more than he knew was going to be good for him in the next couple of hours, but the nostalgia of the spread and the enticement of being full meant that very little slowed him down. 

"So what are your plans for today?" Souji asked him, just as he raised chopsticks loaded with rice and natto. He dropped them with a measure of regret and tried to come up with an atmosphere that wouldn't be too sad or too sleazy for breakfast talk.

"I'll head back to the riverbank. I need to go check on my stuff that is, ah..." he paused, hunting for a way to say 'hidden in a crag' in a sufficiently euphemistic way.

"So you have somewhere to go?" Souji asked, his eyes narrowing in concern.

He wriggled in his seat. Hopefully it wasn't too obvious that he was living rough.

"You can stay here, you know. I'll give you money for the upset, and you'd be fine to come and go as you want."

Yosuke felt his mouth flap but no sound came out so he shut it with a snap. 

"The key's on the bear keyring in the coatrack," Souji said as he got up to put his plate in the dishwasher, and he pulled the empty bowls from the table to go along with it. "I need to be gone, but I hope you'll think about it at least?"

Yosuke still hadn't wrapped his head around the sudden turn of events but his supposed john was already out of the kitchen and unhooking a jacket from the wall. 

"You're welcome to anything in the wardrobe that fits you, as well," he said, shooting him an uneven smile as he unlocked the door.

Yosuke's tongue finally connected to his brain but all he got out was a strangled 'wait!' before the door shut and he was alone in a stranger's flat where he was apparently being hired to be a flatmate. 

He sat back in the chair, and puzzled it over. 

Souji seemed like a nice guy, but he was certain that it wasn't usual procedure for good samaritans to kiss their charges, and it certainly wasn't normally for clients to offer anything out of the goodness of their hearts, especially since they had been distressingly non-sexual. Everything would be easier if he could only figure out what the snag was but nothing made sense.

He was thinking himself in circles. Pushing back the chair he started pacing around the kitchen; when that wasn't enough he expanded his circuit into the hall. Reaching past the big ruff of his jacket he felt a metal chain, and teasing it free of the jungle of clothes and straps it was, indeed, a little bear figure carefully guarding a sturdy key. 

So he was alone, he didn't know the guy, he'd be out until later and he had a key to the place. He should rob the place, right? The dude was asking for it. If he was seriously trying to do something shady the least he could have done was flash some cash, and if he was simply that naive then he would do well to learn not to trust other people so much. The way it stood he had free reign to come and go from a very nice apartment stuffed to the brim with trinkets. If he'd counted his days right he might even be in time to get some of his own stuff out of the pawn shop in return. He'd have to be more careful with it this time. 

His mind was made up. He ducked back into the bedroom to get changed into his own meagre clothes. It didn't feel a whole lot better standing around in a bare chest and tight jean shorts but he felt more secure at least. 

He hadn't ever been great at judging the value of things but within a couple of minutes he had gathered a small pile of the lightest, sleekest electronics on the sofa. They just about fit all in one big shopping bag that he sat down by the door while he got his jacket on, shoving his hands into his pockets to position it right on his shoulders and... 

...there was something in his pocket. He drew it out, already knowing what it was. A plain white envelope, bloated and heavy, and when he opened it there were more than enough to cover whatever he was intending to charge for the night. Enough that he could eat, pay for his checkup, be as secure as he could hope to be. 

So Souji wasn't going for a dine and dash. Maybe he was shy about money matters? That was an extreme way to deal with it, but at least it proved that at least something about the proposition had been sincere. 

The key was there, the money was there, even though he hadn't really been touched at all. What if the whole thing was alright? It was too good a deal to be completely true but there was nothing saying he couldn't take advantage of it, at least for a little while. He desperately wanted to keep sleeping in an actual bed and Souji didn't seem like a dangerous type. They said the quiet ones were the serial killer types you had to watch out for, but maybe this was his lucky break. 

Just this once, he was going to trust someone. If everything went to shit he would still have the money, unless he ended up dead, but if everything went right he might even end up with enough for a rental deposit and he could start again, again. 

With his mind set on a radically different tack from mere minutes ago he once again set out. The key turned in the lock as he left, and seemed locked securely enough, so another test was passed. 

The rest of the morning was eaten up by getting a long, slow bus to the other side of the town. It dropped him off miles from the run down industrial estate he had made his home, and he was once again tired and run down by the time he made it there.

It looked as miserable and rundown as it had when he left it, but when he stretched his hand down the crumbled down ruin his hand made contact with the silken material as he had expected and as he pulled it out all his possessions were in attendance. The old busted backpack had a strap that didn't adjust so it was way too far up his back and the sleeping bag cover was vomiting all his contents when he couldn't roll it right.

It was awkward, lumpy and heavy but by the time he got onto the bus back he was tapping his foot in a heady mix of anxiety and anticipation. There wasn't much in the bag to keep close other than his lucky pick, some of the official documentation and ID that he'd brought with him when he thought running away was nothing but getting a new place and finding a job; all of the clothes he had left were very similar in their cut and style but at least they packed small. 

By the time he'd hauled it back to the flat he was exhausted and regretting the corner store bento he'd picked up on the way back. He'd been following directions that he'd written down in intricate detail as he'd made his way into the centre and were almost certainly exactly the longest route, and he promised himself that if he was going to be staying there longer than until tomorrow he was going to need to buy a map simply so he could make it out of the place without doing a loop of the whole place.

Stood in that tiny hall again, his backpack in hand, he wavered. Was it presumptuous to unpack? Or even to leave his stuff in Souji's room? Best to leave it all in the bag for now and see how things went; he didn't want to be stuck without an easy escape. 

Dropping it in the hall he dragged himself into the kitchen in the hope that there would be some sort of coffee he could make in an inconspicuous way. A stencilled tin had his hopes up for a moment, but when he opened it he was met with grounds; he had no idea where the coffee maker was and didn't think he would ingratiate himself by pulling all the cupboards apart in a wild search for it. Knowing his luck it would be a make that would be way too complicated to figure his way around without a manual. 

The water tasted fine, and the chill from the tap brought him back to life a fraction. He turned back to the room, caught sight of the pile of his intended ill-gotten gains and slumped. 

It took a small age for him to put them all back where he had found them, and in the case of the consoles to figure out the intricate knot of cables that made up the right connections. It was a foregone conclusion that the channels would be out of order and he would have to think up an incredibly dumb story for why they had been jumbled about, but at least he no longer looked mid-crime.

Next it was time to tackle the washing machine, and then to make himself useful and do the dishes. The machine was impossible to fathom so he resorted to taking them back out and doing it by hand. 

It was nice. The slow rhythm of it was lulling, the progression a salve. 

There was no point in making any long term plans since there was absolutely no way this could be long term, but even in the short term he could be in a lot of trouble. Souji had seemed a little laissez-faire with his approach to whatever Yosuke was getting up to but there was a good chance he didn't mean it. He had no way of finding out unless he was a stalker, in which case there were a lot more things to be worried about and he should leave anyway, but he would have to keep his mouth shut about it over dinner. If Souji liked the thought of his flatmate fucking all the neighbours he would have to say it in words. Although, sitting Souji down and making him tell all of his fetishes in a laundry list was pretty appealing all by itself.

With the dishes done he was alone, money earned (somehow) and in a warm dry flat for the first time in a long time. 

He had no idea what to do with himself. 

In the end he had settled for wrangling the TV controls and stretching out to vegetate. Every ten minutes or so he got antsy again, as though he was being lazy and not making the most of the resources available, but there was no way he could go out mid afternoon and risk missing Souji coming back since he was still the customer, but with his clothes dry and back in his bag and the dishes back in the cupboards he was at a loose end. The bookshelves were full with thick fiction books that he picked up, read the first couple of pages of and then put back, his mind still rebelling against him.

And that was how Souji opened the door to the sight of him in an apron, polish in one hand and duster in the other and poised over one of the rows of miniature figures in the bedroom. They stared at each other, Yosuke sure he'd been caught red-handed at something but unsure of what he could be accused of and Souji slack-jawed with an expression that said he imagined him long gone, his eyebrows completely vanished into the solid mass of his bowl cut.

Yosuke broke the silence first, "welcome home!" ringing out in the quiet as he extracted his hands from within the models to peel the marigolds from his hands. This was exceptionally un-sexy and there was no way around it. 

"Hi, um, I'm home," Souji replied, ducking his head so that Yosuke couldn't see his eyes for hair. "How was your day? If that's, I mean..." he looked up enough for Yosuke to catch the rabbit hole that Souji had thought he'd stepped in and shook his head. 

"It was super quiet, a nice change of pace. I picked up some of my stuff, if that's ok?"

"Sure, of course. You don't need to do the housework you know, you're welcome to just chill out."

Yosuke laughed and made his way to the kitchen sink to put the things away, Souji following behind him at a distance.

"I need to do something all day, dude! And it's not as if I can go back to work."

He hadn't meant to say it, thinking more of regular work in a shop or elsewhere that wouldn't take him without a stable address, but his brain caught up to him too slowly and reminded him what he had actually said. He froze, waiting for Souji to explode or refuse to talk to him ever after and chuck him out but instead he simply shrugged one shoulder with a touch of a pout to his lips to convey any sort of distaste.

"I don't mind if you do. It's all up to you in the end."

"Uh, thanks," he muttered and busied himself at the sink, searching his brain for any other topic. "Could you give me a tour of the flat? I got a bit lost looking for things earlier today."

"Sure," he said, and the atmosphere immediately brightened, at least from Yosuke's perspective.

He was surprised the prospect had gone over so well, with almost no indication that it was an odd request at all. Maybe there was a chance that this couldn't really work; he wasn't about to go online and have people over, but at least he'd have somewhere to come back to at the end of the night. Or afternoon, since he was shackled to whatever Souji's timetable was.

The tour was far too in-depth and he forgot a lot of it before the end, but it finally felt not like being stranded in a stranger's place by accident and more like being invited to live somewhere. There didn't seem to be much that was off-limits other than the bedside cabinet and the cupboard full of cat food, which were fair enough (although the worry about what Souji thought he would do with the cat food lingered with him for several days) and even the food was free to use, although he resolved he would at the very least manage that himself. Even if he was spending Souji's money so that he wouldn't be spending more of Souji's money.

"I didn't know what you wanted to eat, so I've not made anything," he remembered, but Souji hummed in response. 

"That's perfectly fine," he chuckled, pulling Yosuke closer with a hand to his waist and planting a kiss on his cheek. He let go instantly, face bright red, and when he thought Souji was about to lead him through to the bedroom or pull his head down to his crotch he instead wove around him and bent to pull a wide pan from a cupboard. 

He was more confused than ever before. What if they were playing house? Or maybe Souji was very comfortable with expressing his feelings and very bad at personal space. 

It was all he could think about as onions were chopped, ginger was fried and some form of meat battered and cut. Conversation flowed more naturally as he was marinated in the deliciously spiced clouds of aroma that were beginning to circulate. He learned Souji's favourite baseball team, which turned out to be his own team's arch-rival, the best parts of Okina which they both agreed was a little run down game store by the stadium, and that Souji wasn't going to kick him out of the flat for being a dog person. 

It didn't feel like john talk, but all the concerns about it were lulled by the comfort of it and the delicious smells into letting himself believe that it was nothing to worry about, and by the time the food was in front of him it was second nature.

Dinner was set in front of him to the tune of his stomach growling in a most ungainly manner, and a bark of a laugh from Souji that had them both giggling like boys. Despite the upset there was no shame keeping from digging in, and when he did he thought he had ascended. This time he was restrained enough to keep his end of conversation up as they demolished their bowls of syrupy, steaming pork and rice.

"This is amazing," he said as he reached for seconds. "You're amazing, do you know that?"

Souji kept a cool look about him as he waved off the compliment with his chopsticks. 

"I've spent a lot a time on my own, so I had to learn to fend for myself. It's nothing special."

"If you say so, but I've spent a lot of time on my own as well and I have been known to burn noodles." Souji smiled at that with a strange sadness to his eyes and Yosuke floundered for a change in topic before they could get too far down whatever lane that expression implied. 

"So what do you do all day? Do you work in the city?"

Another half shrug. "I'm studying at the University here; I want to be a vet. Only second year, but it's going okay so far. The studying is horrific, way worse than the practicals."

It suited him; it was easy to imagine him all suited and booted and pulling a calf from inside a cow or talking a dog round from anaesthesia.

"Did you decide on that because of the cute kittens?" he said, his voice lilting in an obvious attempt at goading.

Souji smiled, and made no attempt at denial. "It's a boon of the job, what can I say? But I get to help the people as well, which is half the enjoyment of it really; doctor to the animals, and a sort of pseudo therapist for the people that bring them in."

"What, like with a big leather chair for the cat ladies to rant at the world?" 

"No, but I'll get to lift some of their worries or tell them how they can avoid the same things happening again, a lot of the time. I'm not going to start having people tell me their life stories but I'd like to think that when people left my surgery they would be happier alongside their pets. 

Sorry, I rambled. Did that make sense?"

Not really, no.

"Sounds like you're a bit of a bleeding heart, honestly."

Souji turned to the side, a muted pride in his eyes.

"I guess maybe I am." He looked back up and watched Yosuke carefully. "What do you want to do, Hiroyuki?"

He appreciated the dodge, and the implication there'd be more to his life than selling ass. He bit.

"I'd like to get into the music industry, but it's a way off. Probably as a producer, but I'd need to put myself through classes for that. I love playing, and the appeal of being on stage is something else, but messing with sounds and making them layer or making them sound completely different is magical, you know?"

He looked down at his fingers, dry and with the polish chipping off, and sighed.

"Knowing me I'd probably accidentally strangle myself on stage even if I did get on stage. Now, though, I'd settle for a retail job. I know I was good at that at least."

Souji scraped his chair back and rummaged before coming back to the table with two eggcups. He settled back in his chair and held one out for Yosuke. When he took it, the smell of sake was unmistakable. 

"Maybe things will be different now. Here's to better futures," Souji said, completely sincerely, and raised his cup. 

"Better futures," Yosuke echoed, to the tune of cheap ceramics. He tried not to let himself hope that it was already a little brighter. 

The uncomfortable, itchy feeling of uncertainty kept him quiet for the rest of their dinner, which Souji passed with a half smile impressed on his lips that stayed there through to the start of the clean up when he managed to tip a wooden spoon out of the pot and smeared sauce all the way down himself. 

It was the first time he'd heard Souji swear, and he was a little concerned at how hot he found him when he was ruffled.

By the time Souji had fussed and patted down and rubbed himself clean he was a lot calmer, and they loaded the dishes into the washer with a rhythmic and easy efficiency. 

"It's weird having this many dishes," Souji remarked as they loaded the last one in, and it struck Yosuke that they might be having as weird a time of it as each other. 

He stepped closer as Souji pushed the door closed with his foot and slid his hands up Souji's graphic tee; he was toned and warm, and made no movement away from him.

"So then," he purred as he pushed up and into the short hair at the back of Souji's neck. "What's next on the cards then?"

Souji sighed as he relaxed in his arms, and Yosuke took the opportunity to bring their bodies flush together before Souji brought him completely off guard by bringing his arms around Yosuke's back in what could only be a surprisingly tender hug. He'd been hugged by a lot of clients over the last few months, and had shaken off his initial revulsion at the sweaty proximity, but this was nothing of the like. It was clothed, for one, but affectionate and non sexual and he had to force himself to bring his arms down around Souji's shoulders in a reciprocal gesture.

"If I'm going to be completely honest with you," which seems to be the theme of the night, "it's been a hell of a long day and all I really need right now is a wind down." He leant his head against Yosuke's neck and snuggled a little into his nape. "Is there any film you want to catch up on?"

It seemed like Yosuke's expectations were once again going clean out of the window.

He couldn't think of any titles right away, but shaking his head only brought him into closer contact and he was steadily getting far too warm. Eventually he was squeezed lightly and then gently released. Souji made his way silently over to the TV cabinet and knelt in front of it, pulling the door open to reveal a dark and dusty collection of DVDs. Yosuke trotted over and hunkered down knee-to-knee, head cocked to attempt and read the complicated English titles on so many of the spines. One name he recognised with a sharp spike of glee. With Souji fiddling with the controls he settled himself on the sofa in what he hoped would be an appealing spread, and in no time at all they were sat in the dark on opposite ends of the sofa as puppets and rubber suited men fought over the smoking ruins of Yokohama.

He'd been shushed or ignored the few times he'd made some attempt at sparkling commentary, so by the time the knock-down, drag out fight was finally in full sway he felt a touch at his leg. It was difficult to make out his expression in the darkness as Souji crept over to his territory and laid himself down shoulder to knee against Yosuke. It was awkward and uncomfortable to he raised his arm to let Souji nestle closer. He got a beaming smile for his effort, and the set up was too perfect; he bent his head just a fraction and kissed him. 

Souji hummed against his lips and shuffled against him on the sofa to get a better angle before pushing back into the contact. Yosuke huffed a laugh at the motion, the release of the weird tension between them, and just as he did so he felt the quick, smooth contact of a tongue sweeping over his lips and then Souji turned back to the film and rested his head on Yosuke's shoulder as though nothing at all had happened. 

Yosuke was paid to pick up on clues and knew a lost fight when he saw it, resigning himself to another hour at least of the weirdest blue balling of his life. 

When the credits rolled Yosuke could feel every muscle that was pressed against him twitch in Souji's full length stretch before he heaved himself upright.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to move," he mumbled as he shuffled about the kitchen for a drink of water. "I'm going to need the sofa to sleep. Early morning class tomorrow."

"It's fine, I'll swap with you and you can get your bed back," Yosuke's mouth chipped in before his brain could stop him. He really wanted that bed.

"That's ridiculous," Souji said. "I invited you in, and you deserve it. It's a good sofa - sleeping on it won't kill me." 

"We can share?" Yosuke tried, holding his wink for several seconds until he realised it was way too dark for Souji to see. "It's a big bed, we'll fit fine. And I promise to be on my best behaviour."

A silence stretched on in which Yosuke considered his chances that he went too far or transgressed whatever exact fetish he was dealing with, but there was a long sigh of resignation in the dark and he relaxed.

"Sure thing. I promise my best behaviour too." 

This was ridiculous. He may have been both new to this game, and pretty bad at it as far as he could tell, but he was in actuality a hooker. And here were him and his john promising not to touch each other indiscreetly. It wasn't as if the guy hadn't reacted well when prompted and the mood was going right, but they never seemed to go far. Did he want someone who couldn't say no for companionship? This could become the easiest job of his life.

His hand hovered over the pyjama bottoms as he got ready for bed. He was standing naked in the bedroom, Souji in the bathroom brushing his teeth, and the idea of getting into bed naked refused to leave him alone. In the end he stayed within the lines and pulled the soft cotton on, not willing to overstep. He still wasn't willing to wear the stuffy button up shirt, but at least he'd be comfortable while he lay in the land of the unknown.

As he slipped between the sheets he couldn't help the happiness that bubbled up through him at the sensation of them rushing cool over his skin. He waited for Souji propped up on a pillow but when he came back through in his two piece blue bedclothes, every bit the overly mature young man he seemed who barely gave his very bare chest a second glance before he got into bed and settled in, Yosuke sliding down to match him.

As he fell asleep facing Souji in the dark he was sure he felt a hand reach out to his hand and squeeze, but he was too close to sleep to respond before he was out for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

He woke slowly, and burrowed further into the covers with the innate sense that he had slept very late into the morning. The blurry memory of falling asleep next to Souji stirred him to slap an arm out to the empty space beside him, but it was cold.

This time awareness came to him quickly and there was no going back to sleep, so with a groan from deep in his being he rolled out of the warm sanctuary into the cold air. The clock on the bedside cabinet told him that it was, indeed, late and that he really should be getting a move on if he wanted to be doing anything today, so he dressed in a mad hurry in a loose tank top and his one remaining pair of full length jeans and was out the door in a half hour. 

He didn't notice the second envelope in his pocket until he was halfway down the stairs. How long could Souji keep it up? He was a student, not a millionaire, and being in a one bedroom flat in a nice part of town must be a drain. Yosuke wasn't even sure he wanted him to keep it going; as welcome as it was to have a roof over his head and a soft bed to come back to the strange limbo of their not-arrangement was cramping his style something fierce. 

He probably wouldn't have looked too favourably upon being kept around the house as a living fuck toy but at least that sort of role would have rules and an agreement that he could base the rest of his life around. The way they were now, nothing seemed certain. He was being paid, so presumably he was doing some sort of service, but fuck if he knew what that was. Maybe Souji was going to rob a bank and he needed someone to be his alibi for when shit went sideways - it was increasingly obvious that Souji wasn't your every day kerb crawler but what he was and was not capable of was becoming increasingly unclear. If pushed, however, he was willing to give 'bank robber Souji' a solid 'unlikely'. On the upside, he'd woken up perfectly safe now on two occasions so it was becoming less likely that Yosuke had been invited in to become a new victim.

He found himself in the centre of town, still mulling over possibilities that he didn't have the information to rule out. He needed to do something today rather than sit around in the flat again, but the idea of going right back to his seedy part of town was less than inviting. 

He caught sight of the date in a bus stop and his decision was made for him. He had the money, he had two days and the means to get to it.

When he got to the old, beaten up pawn shop he was almost giddy. Nothing about the dark, dusty display cases or the walls covered in sad and faded paintings or posters of long-past shows could bring him down, and he sauntered up to the front desk with a bounce in his step that he'd thought lost.

It was a bit of a wrangle to get the paperwork done with his ticket having been an obvious victim of being pulled out, refolded and then probably sat on far too many times, but with his signature and a lot of layers of charm it was finally back with him. It was most likely the wrong decision to take it back, but it could always be re-pawned somewhere else and the sting of being without it was becoming a burn.

The comforting weight of the guitar case kept him smiling all the way back through the three buses and twenty minute walk that it took him to get back to the flat, by which time the warm red tones of evening lit up the whole of the white front wall of Souji's apartment building.

It almost felt like coming home, but he quashed the feeling as quickly as he could.

There was a call of "welcome back!" almost as soon as he cracked the door open, and when he stepped over the threshold there was a beautifully rich smell of stock that billowed out of the kitchen towards him, followed shortly thereafter by a worried looking Souji, still brandishing a wooden spoon and following up his greeting with a weak, "Hi, you're back". 

There was something cute about the idea Souji was concerned he wouldn't come back, and another fear melted away with it; he didn't seem angry at all.

"Yeah, I'm back. Sorry it's late, I had to go to the other side of town for this," he said, hefting the case further up his shoulder in demonstration. Souji's eyes caught it for the first time and widened. "That smells great."

"It should be done soon, I was going to leave it to steep a while since I didn't know when you'd be back," Souji trailed off, his distraction obvious. "Is that a guitar?"

Yosuke grinned, taking it down off his back as the door thumped closed behind him and they wound their way back into the kitchen. Souji made a beeline for the, was it stew? and deposited the dripping spoon back in the pot. 

"Yeah, it's mine from... a while ago. I just got it back, thanks to you. Another couple of weeks and it'd be in someone else's greasy mitts."

"I'm glad," Souji said, and he sounded as if he completely meant it. "Could you play something for me after we've eaten?"

"I'll try," he replied, thinking of old, unkempt strings and a cracked nut.

The food was perfect again in a way that he could very much get used to, so that when he offered to cook one night it felt like blasphemy. He knew very well it would be one hell of a downgrade but it didn't seem right to be catered for as he was, but he was told very blankly that he would have been making it anyway and it wasn't a problem. There was a sadness at the picture of him cooking all alone in the flat, but he brushed it aside and very clumsily segued into talking about cooking shows and then their favourite programmes as children. 

He found himself staring at Souji's ass as he bent over to put the last of the dinner things away and fervently reminding himself that, while it was good to find a client hot, it was better not to get honestly attracted. Something that Souji said roused him from his thoughts but he couldn't make it out in time; when he answered in a non-committal 'mm-hmm' he was bustled out of his chair and onto the sofa, the guitar case laid neatly across his lap.

Ah.

It came out of the case as perfectly as he remembered it. All told it was a pretty cheap and shitty acoustic but he'd saved hard for it and it had been his rock during a lot of very rough times, and had been the last of the things from Inaba that he'd sold or pawned. It needed some tender loving care to smooth over the couple of scratches it had picked up over the years and it needed those new strings and nut, but it would be fine in the end. Hopefully they both would.

Souji was quiet as he tuned, perched on the little matching footstool but watching attentively. He probably wouldn't be down to watch him go through the exhaustive process of getting it back in working order, but he would take a chance on basic ability being enough to satisfy him.

There was very little hiding the fact that it sounded like shit as he gave it a tentative strum; it was hollow and brassy where it should have been full and an unpleasant buzz followed, but Souji lit up anyway. He pressed his luck with a couple of chords of the first tune he could bring to mind, an old Western song, and was caught unawares when there came a quiet humming that crescendoed as he continued on through verse and chorus. He snuck a look over at Souji who had his eyes closed in quiet contentment, swaying with the music, and his chest warmed at the sight of it. 

He closed out the song with a final, ringing twang and attendant buzz that was rapidly overtaken by the quiet applause from Souji. 

"You're really good," he said, and Yosuke pushed down the stab of self-derision that flared in him. It would have been nearly impossible for any sort of quality performance to come out "I think you'd make a great performer if you ever change your mind, you know."

He reverently set the guitar back in its case and zipped it closed, stroking the black plastic one last time before settling back into the sofa and the conversation. 

"She sounds terrible but I'll get her back in working order in no time." 

Souji looked like he was going to interrupt so he carried on, "I've gotten comfortable with my limits. Plus, it lets me stretch my technical and sales muscles, and I'm normally pretty good at getting sales," he grinned, but all he got was a cocked head and a stare like he was being seen straight through and he ended up running his mouth again. "I need to get better at playing again, for sure. Might see if I can't get myself a decent Wonderwall and take it to the streets."

The implication of his current occupation hung in the air for a long moment and he cursed ever opening his mouth.

"So, uh, have you played any music before?" he tried, and it sounded lame even to his own ears. 

"Yeah," Souji said, leaning back on the footstool with clasped hands around his knees; it looked both incredibly uncomfortable and a bit of a balancing act, but as usual he seemed to carry it off with grace. "I was in the school orchestra for a couple of years, and then band, but I've not really had the time to keep practicing. That and I think my neighbours would complain."

"Why, what did you play?"

"I was a trumpeter. Dabbled in french horn but I didn't stick at it."

He studied him for a moment. Brass suited him down to the ground. He would perhaps have guessed at one of the weirder ones nobody played - a saxhorn or a carnyx - but he could see it just fine. 

"Did you ever play in competition? We might have crossed paths when they dragged me along for the contests on the side."

They raked through old memories to try and find any crossover, but even with the help of the odd sticker or stamp only half worn off his guitar case but there didn't seem to be any overlap.

"It's a shame," Souji said, his voice subdued. "I missed out on you for so long." 

There was a flicker of something darker in his eyes as he said it, and Yosuke's pulse quickened as he saw his cue.

"Musician to musician, are you going to show me how good you are with your hands?" He pushed himself forward so he was on the very edge of the sofa, close enough to touch. He wondered if there could have been another life in which they could have met and been friends or more, but he was making awkward come-ons to a john instead.

He stretched out a hand to brush against his knee and down his inner thigh.

Souji laughed low in his throat. "I do seem to be at a disadvantage, you've already proven your own skills."

He stood into a half crouch and glid between Yosuke's legs, raking curled fingertips against the grooves of his ribs as he kissed him, but just as Yosuke opened his mouth to deepen it Souji stood fully and stretched to the ceiling.

"'Fraid the day is catching up with me fast, so I'll be turning in."

His tone was even and clear, and it was very clearly an aversion rather than an invitation for more. Yosuke gathered himself to call out in time to halt him in the doorway.

"You, uh, don't need to pay me to stay, you know. If you don't... want to." 

Souji hovered there, watching him until he felt his face glow red, then nodded curtly and was out of the door without a word. He let out a sigh and collapsed onto the sofa, hoping that removing the insane monetary incentive would stop some of the strange imbalance that they were holding in. He would charge if something happened, but until that point he might stop as though he were on the clock every moment of the day and expected to be always making moves. Or maybe not.

Either way he was getting room and board, and the rest would have to happen as and when. And there were signals. Intermittent but there, dismissing the idea that he'd gone wrong and messed it all up.

He gave Souji enough time to get ready while he wound himself down, but when he finally went through and got ready it seemed that he was already asleep. He tucked himself in and hooked a leg over Souji's, who stirred at the contact and reached clumsily to touch his face in the darkness.

It took Yosuke a long time to follow him into sleep.

He woke up before Souji, drowsy and far too warm, to the tune of a shrill and painful alarm bleeping at him. Whatever time it was it was too early, and definitely still dark outside, which meant that he was by all of the natural laws supposed to be still asleep. 

He dragged himself over the body beside him, scrabbling as softly as he could, and thumped in the general direction of the alarm. It stopped blaring at least, and the peace was blissful.

As was the warm, firm body that he'd draped himself over. He turned himself so they lined up better, Yosuke settled with his full weight straddling him and watched those long eyelashes bat and then part - they were silver, just like his hair. Did he dye them as well? They parted and he was looking into warm, grey eyes that crinkled into a smile before they came towards him at speed and there were lips on his. He grinned into it as weak arms grasped his shoulders then slipped down his sides to pull their waists flush. Yosuke ground down hard, licking into his mouth when it opened in a groan. 

This was good, and right, and what he was there to do. It was like coming home to his own skin as he repossessed the job he hated - it made sense to be happy and buzzing as Souji hardened under him, reached down to grab his ass, released his mouth so he could pant against his neck.

And then it was all over. He eased Yosuke off him by degrees before diving back in to suck at his neck before rolling him off to lie shocked on the sheets as a chaste kiss was pressed to his cheek and 'good morning' whispered into his ear, staring like an idiot as Souji wriggled off the bed and sauntered off to brush his teeth and wank off all the excitement he'd built up.

What in the actual fuck was he doing there.

Over the next couple of weeks it only got stranger.

They settled into a routine, after a fashion. Souji would go out early in the morning and Yosuke would get up an hour or so later, putter about the house doing what chores he could and browse online for whatever short term cash in hand jobs he could get. If there was nothing, which was the majority rule, he would take his guitar and try his hand at busking. It didn't take in much but it was better than nothing, and it was a little scrap of long-forgotten independence. He'd come home after Souji to a warm welcome and gourmet dinner, and then they would spend the evening in quiet but happy companionship with some sort of media before falling asleep in the same bed.

And every other morning there would be an envelope in his jacket.

The pattern to it still eluded him but they were more likely to appear the morning after they'd been physical, to any extent, although that extent was still excessively minor. He'd been thoroughly kissed a dozen times or less, had some pretty intense grinding a half dozen or less and had their hands on each other a grand total of twice.

The interminably slow blue balling was infuriating. 

They had become touchy roommates for the most part, or friends that snuggled in the evening with occasional slight benefits. He was impossibly grateful for the company, having a place to stay and for the stream of cash that split between the small but expanding wardrobe of his more demure casual wear and into the most secure locker he could manage, but the lack of secure footing was a slow death. Nothing was ever sure, every movement could prove either platonic or erotic with Souji often too hard to read before the act was upon him. It was being on a leaky, rotten ship and then finding yourself standing on the ocean.

Craving the security of transaction there were afternoons when he ended up back on that corner, walking his old routes in his old shorts. He'd been picked up a couple of times, been given some form of physical release that was a drop in the well. It was worth it in the short term to feel in control and wanted, even if the treatment was rough, but it was never worth it in the long term. 

He would come home on those long days with his clothes rumpled and far too late, and Souji would know the minute he walked in; there was nothing that he could say against how he was dressed. He would walk in the door and be greeted by Souji at the door to the kitchen, every time, and then the look of worry would change to distance. He never said anything, only welcomed him inside with the same greetings as always but the edges of his voice would be sanded down, and the act hurt him more than anything else. Guilt would eat at him the rest of their evening as it stretched into awkward silences that would keep him off the streets for days afterwards. He attempted once to cover it up by bringing a change of clothes but he'd figured it out anyway and the disappointment was worse than the distance.

It had come upon him slowly, this attachment. He was still an odd person and there were times when he couldn't even imagine what was going through his head; when he would drink brine from the jars in fridge or make comments that were incredibly snarky in the middle of a very quiet conversation or not come back home at night because one of the strays didn't turn up to be fed and he was looking for her. 

And the flat had become a home rather than a bed, without him really noticing. It was in the shared laughter in the light of a game over screen, the comfortable silence as Yosuke scoured the internet and Souji hummed over his pans, or falling asleep to the sound of his breathing. Troublingly domestic. He could feel himself become used to it, and that could only mean that when this all ended, through Souji growing bored with playing house or Yosuke doing something stupid and getting kicked out, it was all going to hurt all the more. It wasn't only habit, either; he knew he was getting too close and that would be half the pain. 

It was easy to like Souji. Sure, he was a looker, enough to pull off the rather brash style choices he made sometimes, but he had the confidence to carry it off as well. Or at least, he would be confident and flirty until it reached an imperceptible crunch point and then the conversation would be smoothly deflected to something more intense. It seemed to come so naturally to him that there were times Yosuke thought he didn't know he was doing it.

A considerable amount of his time in Souji's presence was being spent in very close contact, pressed close in the quiet and dark, feeling the taut muscles of his chest against his side rumble, and that was helping nothing at all; he'd disappear into the bathroom to jerk the tension out but then he'd have to crawl back into bed and be spooned to sleep. Every moment he was being wound tighter and tighter, and something would have to change soon or he would snap. It was as though he'd regressed and was a teenager all over again.

He was fast approaching his limit, so it was time for short term relief again. 

The bar was the the same as always, but felt greasy in a way he thought he had accustomed himself to. It had never felt comfortable but that night it was impossible. A man came up to him, a heavy and warm hand on his ass as he growled in his ear and his stomach gave. He ran, and didn't calm down until he was all the way back, at home.

Home was dangerous too, and he darted into the bedroom to change before Souji could be there to greet him. When he oozed his way out in new and discreet clothes he found Souji looking relaxed and happy in a way that made him uncomfortable and guilty, and then angry at himself for being guilty when he had been given full permission to continue on with his life as it had been before. 

Dinner was prickly on his part but Souji gave no indication that anything was wrong. When they'd finished and Yosuke dropped himself down into the sofa Souji appeared at his elbow, a gentle smile on his face and a bottle of wine in his hands. He lifted it to get it in better light as his shoulders hunched slightly in what could have been nerves.

"To celebrate a month," he said. Yosuke fought the urge to turn his eyes away and gave his wobbliest grin back.

A whole month and he was still none the wiser. Tonight he would have to get answers at last; he didn't want to be out on the street again but the indecision and guilt was impossible to live with. He didn't know what he wanted the answer to be either. He wasn't there to be a boyfriend, but he didn't want to be a convenient date or a product either, and being both was out of the question.

He didn't know enough about wine to tell good from bad, but it disappeared quickly over some big muscly action film from the eighties, snuggled into Souji's side at an angle that made the drinking of it awkward and dangerous. He almost splattered the pristine white polo underneath him when he went to top up his glass with the last of the bottle, but a last minute spasm corrected his wrist barely enough to stop spilling out one side without splashing out the other. He could feel Souji watching him, and when he emerged from a long emergency drink there was a hand over his, pulling the glass away from his grasp. He snapped to look at Souji in accusation but even in the flickering light he recognised the dark look in his eyes, a warm welcome sitting deep in his chest as his chin was turned up as Souji leant down for a kiss that he deepened with a moan, shuffling up to get a better angle as he grasped at the soft cotton of the polo.

It escalated faster than it ever had with Souji before, and he found himself panting into his mouth when a rough hand slid down the waistband of his jeans, the tight band pressing their skin together close. He thrust forward into the touch, hard and straining and desperately trying to marshal himself to reciprocate, that it was his job to please over being please but this was what he had wanted for so long and he conceded to it, letting Souji slide his hand back out to run rough strokes over his clothed crotch, run hot breaths over his neck as he stroked him in long, sure motions before pulling him back to turn and push him down onto the cushions. 

Something changed as Souji crouched over him, a sudden shift in demeanour as he looked down on Yosuke with his dick out and shirt around his chest, panting up at him. It was mostly shock, he thought, a quick recoil and hurried re-fortification, with a quick kiss pressed to Yosuke's lower lip that hung open in question.

"I.. good night," he stammered, head turned to the side as he lifted himself off and made to lift his leg free, but Yosuke stopped him with a strong hand on his wrist.

"Souji," he said, his voice steady despite his heavy breathing. The figure froze above him. "We need to talk about this."

The muscles in Souji's arm tensed as he tried to recoil but he held tight until he felt surrender lax first the arm and then his entire body.

"Yes," Souji replied, his tone like he was walking to the noose, sitting himself awkwardly beside Yosuke who heaved himself around to sit straight against the chair back. He wasn't spending any more time in limbo - how to phrase the weird situation that they'd been happily making so with was another matter entirely.

"We need to have sex," he tried, and Souji almost swallowed his own tongue.

"Need to..."

"Have sex," Yosuke continued on. Now that he'd said it and broken the seal on the strange compact they had there was a rush of confidence that he'd missed. Surety. 

"I sell myself for sex, Souji, it's what I do." 

Souji flinched.

"Every day that we continue on like this, I lose track of what's going on here. I like being here, and being around you, but I never know if you're seeing me as someone on a job or as something real... a lover. And it's not good for me to be stuck with no idea of your intentions, but it's not good for you to be fooling yourself into seeing this as something that it isn't, either. So I think, if we had sex, it would help us figure out where we all stood in it, make it more transactional again. Do you see what I mean?" 

He was going too far, sinking the whole thing and was going to be out on his ass within the hour, but he couldn't regret getting it off his chest. Souji was shrinking into himself rather than voice any sort of denial, but it wasn't out of the question that he would say something too much and he would snap, so he kept himself tense and ready to vault the back of the sofa and get to his bag and the stash stuffed in the bottom of it. You never knew how people would react to getting their pysche poked about in. The silence stretched on.

"I see," Souji answered at length. He sounded a million miles away. "I... I can do that. We can do that. I don't want you to be uncomfortable here, and if that will help..."

"It will," Yosuke interrupted, hating how the words sounded painful for Souji to say and already wanting it all to be over and sorted.

"Should we move through to the bedroom?" Souji asked, stressed and shy, and Yosuke nodded sharply and evacuated himself through to the bathroom with a shouted apology and request for time as he prepped himself. If life went in his favour for once there would be no sweet and tender foreplay to this, just a hurried fuck to sleep and he could dispense with this alien romantic atmosphere that had settled over everything and get back to seeing it as work, where he had a roof over his head for once and paid his rent with his ass. Far from ideal but a world built on rules.

When he finally made his way through to the bedroom, clean and stretched, the atmosphere was oppressive. Souji was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the ground, and looked up guiltily when he walked in. A part of him wanted to get changed into the same skimpy clothes that he'd been wearing when they first spoke to each other, but it would have been overplaying it.

"Uh, I'll just go and get -," he started as he rose, but Yosuke raised a hand to shush him. 

"I'm already prepped, and I don't mind if you don't shower." He was itching to get it over with but Souji turned green.

"Are you okay with being on top?" Yosuke asked, worried that he'd jumped to conclusions, but Souji nodded shakily and sat back down, his fingers fluttering nervously on his lap. It was a depressingly familiar scene, memories of himself trembling and nervous on the bed the first time he was picked up floated to the top of his brain and he shuddered, all of a sudden very unsure about whether it would be better to call the whole thing off. 

This was pulling out the thorn, he told himself. Once they were in it and Souji was committed to the very obvious lust he'd demonstrated in fits and starts beforehand, without the uncertainty that had been hanging over them, it would be an easy ride. In a lot of respects. 

He sat down next to Souji, whose butterflies were proving contagious, and gave him his best fake smile, hoping that even if he didn't want this to be emotionally making love he could at least make it a good time. Souji's smile was a weak reflection, and when Yosuke dropped his hand to his knee, brushing up to his inner thigh as he closed in on his lips the sound from his throat was more of distress than desire. He pulled back.

"Are you okay with this?" he asked, and the question felt strange on his tongue, the role reversal seeping into his bones to keep him self conscious. 

"Yes," Souji whispered, the tiny tremors that Yosuke watched travel across his arms settling down as he found some of that confidence he normally had so easily. 

Yosuke started them off, turning on his heel to slide himself onto Souji's lap. He felt his body tense up for a moment before relaxing again, his hand coming to rest gently on Yosuke's knee. He smiled down at him and rolled his body. Souji bit his lip as their hips ground together, Yosuke keeping his back straight and mouth out of reach; they needed boundaries this time, with no gray areas. 

He kept the rhythm of his hips steady, the pressure gradually increasing, and watched the tension in Souji's face battle with the sensation as his cheeks reddened in the bright light of the room and he felt the swell of his hardening cock through their clothes.

The grin was becoming more genuine as he bent his head to pant by Souji's ear, tracing his fingers down abs that were afflicted with the same trembling that had taken over his arms and laboured, ragged breathing. He hooked his hand into the nape of his shirt to slowly drag it over his head as he arched his back to the best effect he could give, exposing his chest by the slowest degrees.

When the cotton was finally free from his face Souji's face wasn't what he had expected. The uncertainty was back in full force as he visibly gulped, hands oscillating between moving towards his own neck and Yosuke in a fluster that didn't suit Souji at all, and he stepped in to try and help.

"Touch me," he whispered, rubbing his hands up and down his own chest in what he hoped was an alluring sight. He found himself regretting Souji's bowl cut for the first time - when he bent to bring his weak hands to Yosuke's buckle his fringe kept his eyes hidden from his higher position. He wanted to know that he was only nervous rather than unwilling. He didn't want to force anything, only oil the wheels so it ran smoother.

Souji took a long time fiddling with Yosuke's belt as he sat patient and still to not complicate the procedure, but just as he considered it off himself the clasp gave. The air in the room, already stifling, had chilled to stodgy in the meantime and he'd have had his work cut out to get any sort of eroticism back, but the chance never came.

Souji's fingers touched Yosuke's jeans button and something in him gave.

He stopped moving entirely except for the minute shake of his shoulders. Yosuke stopped moving in response, himself freezing taut in fear that he knew exactly what that meant, what had been going on for a very long time.

"You were right," Souji said, his voice so low that Yosuke could only vaguely make it out against the stark silence in the flat. He was rapidly becoming uncomfortable on Souji's lap, pushing himself back off the bed to take his previous place sitting next to him on the bed, vainly hoping he hadn't broken it all beyond repair.

"You were right," he repeated, slightly louder now that the distance between them was greater but still creaking under emotion. "I did think, I'd convinced myself that you were... that we were more to each other than we were." 

Yosuke's heart sank all the way down to his socked feet, even though he had known it was true. He trained his eyes on where the tatami were beginning to wear near the door, but even without looking at him it was impossible to ignore the quiet sniff behind him, the knowledge that he was crying eating into him. 

"I'm sure you think I'm pathetic. I am, and so, so stupid. I'm sorry I dragged you into all this," he mumbled, and Yosuke heard the subtle sweep of cloth over skin.

He sighed and curled forward with his head in his hands, elbows sharp in the meat of his legs. 

"You're not pathetic," he said to his knees. Souji moved next to him but he couldn't face him. "Or at the very least, you aren't any more pathetic than I am for wishing it was when I knew it wasn't."

Souji stayed silent, whether from skepticism or disbelief he couldn't know. He was experiencing significant disbelief that he had even had the gall to say it himself. 

The quiet made his skin itch.

"It's definitely a bit weird that it was all a long self deception but it's the least creepy option of everything you could have done, and I... I understand being lonely. Wouldn't have gone about it by finding a rent boy, sure, but I get it."

Souji snorted. It was an ugly sound, but it lifted him out of his funk.

"I guess that was a bit of a jump."

"It was a bit, dude. Yeah. But you're a good guy, and I've liked being here, even if I didn't understand what I was doing here on any given day. It was pretty easy to get caught up in it all, wish the circumstances were different."

He ran hands through his still-damp hair, the ridiculousness of their situation when he said it aloud in stark contrast to the maelstrom of emotions he'd been dragged through for weeks.

"Plus, you're hot," he added as a post-script

Souji laughed under his breath before the bed rippled as he flopped onto his back. 

"I really messed all of this up, didn't I?" 

There wasn't an awful lot that Yosuke could do to deny it, so he let it hang as a rhetorical question.

"I'm sorry if I ever forced you to do anything you didn't want to, Hiroyuki."

"I didn't hate any of it, and I liked an awful lot of it. I was mostly confused," he said, the familiar low simmer of embarrassment creeping into his limbs.

"I'm sorry for that too." He was back to sounding completely calm, the slow consideration with which he was speaking the only difference from his tone when discussing the textbook he'd been studying. "I was too self conscious to talk to you about it but I should have understood that it would look different from your perspective, and then I started forgetting it wasn't real."

The tension between them muted into sadness, and Yosuke stretched back to look over at Souji who was lying quiet, but with his eyes unfocused and brow furrowed.

"You don't have to leave," he said suddenly, his gaze snapping to Yosuke. "I'll not throw you out because my self-delusion is over. The bed's yours, I'll take the sofa until you can find a place. And, and I'll pay for any lost income."

He turned back to stare at the ceiling while Yosuke in turn stared at him. That was a hell of an offer.

"I can't believe I even spoke with you, to be honest," Souji said, soft and sad. "You were stunning in the sunset, and I wanted to get to know you somehow."

"You could have just asked me out, you know?" he laughed. "Picked up another stray. Doesn't have to be that complicated."

Souji blinked at him, pulling himself up of the bed slowly as comprehension crept over him.

Yosuke took the leap of faith. 

"We may as well start over, since you don't even know my name."

"I don't?" A slow blink.

"You don't," he chirped. "Hi, Souji, I'm Yosuke. Would you go out with me?"


End file.
